D'Ri and I: A Tale of Daring Deeds in the Second War with the British.: Being the Memoirs of Colonel Ramon Bell, U.S.A.Bacheller, Irving
History
D'Ri and I: A Tale of Daring Deeds in the Second War with the British.: Being the Memoirs of Colonel Ramon Bell, U.S.A.
Bacheller, Irving
United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
He leaned to my ear and whispered:--
"Remember," said he, "2 is _a_, and 3 is _b_, and so on. Be
careful until the guard changes."
He handed me a small watch as he was leaving.
"It may be good company," he remarked.
I unrolled the tissue as soon as I was alone. It was covered with
these figures:--
21-24-6-13-23-6
21-16-15-10-8-9-21 4-6-13-13 5-16-16-19
22-15-13-16-4-12-6-5 13-10-7-21 20-14-2-13-13
24-10-15-5-16-24 10-15 4-16-19-19-10-5-16-19 3-2-4-12
21-16 24-2-13-13 8-16 19-10-8-9-21 21-16 19-16-2-5
13-6-7-21 200 17-2-4-6-20 21-16 17-2-21-9 13-6-7-21
21-16 19-10-23-6-19 19-10-8-9-21 21-24-6-15-21-26
21-16 21-9-10-4-12-6-21.
I made out the reading, shortly, as follows:--
"Twelve to-night cell door unlocked. Lift
small window in corridor. Back to wall go
right to road. Left two hundred paces to path.
Left to river. Right twenty to thicket."
Having read the figures, I rolled the tissue firmly, and hid it in
my ear. It was a day of some excitement, I remember, for that very
afternoon I was condemned to death. A priest, having heard of my
plight, came in that evening, and offered me the good ministry of
the church. The words, the face, of that simple man, filled me
with a deep tenderness for all who seek in the shadows of this
world with the lantern of God's mercy. Never, so long as I live,
shall an ill word of them go unrebuked in my hearing. He left me
at 10.30, and as he went away, my jailer banged the iron door
without locking it. Then I lay down there in the dark, and began
to tell off the time by my heartbeats, allowing forty-five hundred
to the hour, and was not far wrong. I thought much of his Lordship
as I waited. To him I had been of some service, but, surely, not
enough to explain this tender regard, involving, as it must have
done, bribery and no small degree of peril to himself. My counting
over, I tried the door, which swung easily as I put my hand upon
it, The little corridor was dark and I could hear no sound save the
snoring of a drunken soldier, committed that day for fighting, as
the turnkey had told me. I found the small window, and slid the
sash, and let my boots fall to the ground, then climbing through
and dropping on them. It was a dark night, but I was not long in
reaching the road and pacing my way to the path and river. His
Lordship and a boatman lay in the thicket waiting for me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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